


blow a kiss; fire a gun

by ZeroMonster



Category: DCU
Genre: Brotp: Dick & Helena, I swear that sounds worse than it actually is, M/M, Mentions of cannibalism attempt, Mutual Pining, Rebirth continuity but only the bits that suit me, Undercover as a Couple, Undercover date, Valentine's Day, this is so late
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 03:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroMonster/pseuds/ZeroMonster
Summary: Dick and Jason go on an undercover date to find the source of a morbid new concoction that’s affecting wealthy gothamites. Spoiler alert: the secret ingredient is love.





	blow a kiss; fire a gun

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's too late for a Valentine's Day fic BUT... no, I have no excuse  
> Shout out to Kdin for cheering me on and for providing the playlist I wrote this to! I added some songs to the final version:  
> Wicked game // Chris Issak  
> I want to know what love is // Foreigner  
> Maneater // Daryl Hall & John Oates  
> Iris // The Goo Goo Dolls  
> In the air tonight // Phil Collins

“ _When you are falling in love it is always already too late: dēute, as the poets say_.” -Anne Carson, Eros the Bittersweet

 

 

 

“This is just like old days,” Dick said from the passenger seat. “Why don’t you top it off? Explain something to me, maybe make it a little snotty?”

 

Behind the wheel, Helena wasted no time. “I live to serve. Nightwing, this is The Rhapsody, gourmet restaurant.” Without looking away from said building, dark glass and bright lights, she continued, “a few months ago it changed owners; no one suspected foul play, it continued feeding the crème de la crème of Gotham’s population.

 

Then a few days ago, the GCPD arrested a woman for trying to eat her romantic partner alive. Literally. It was the first of three attacks with the same M.O. The police reports the would-be cannibals were completely out of it. Toxicology results were inconclusive. After a few _deserved_ shots of vodka, we discovered the perps dined here hours before the attacks.”

 

Dick laughed softly and Helena turned just enough so he could see her crooked smile, her profile against the night sky.

 

“Should I leave you two alone?” a voice drawled from the back seat.

 

Helena’s smile extinguished, transformed into a frown. “I still don’t know why he’s here,” she said to Dick. “We had this under control, it’s just surveillance, damn it.”

 

Secretly, Dick agreed. He had the treacherous feeling Bruce was punishing someone when he commanded this particular arrangement, though the _who_ was still a mystery. He settled for: “You heard the boss man.” And anticipated the response.

 

“I don’t answer to him, I’m here as a favor to Batgirl,” she said, then to Jason: “Why are _you_ here?”

 

“Fuck knows why I do anything,” Jason leaned back against his seat, masking his bare face in shadows, the effect was suitable dramatic. He looked mean. “I’m the Robin who died and came back hungry for souls.” Wry smile part of the ensemble that consisted in a three piece suit that concealed body armor and as much weapons as he could fit in there without ruining the cut.

 

Helena and he were in civvies, Gucci and Armani for _all_ they were worth. Playing the game of Waynes and Bertinellis, dazzling and illicit just like Gotham liked it. Overboard for a surveillance work. For all their civilian identities fit right in at the Diamond District, it was highly improbable someone would spot them.

 

“And I couldn’t pass the opportunity to ride in this beauty,” Jason finished, running his hands over the butter-soft leather of the seats, his first four knuckles raw. Dick snapped his gaze back. It was a bad time to remember that the last time he and Jason’d been inside a car was also the last time he’d gotten laid.

 

“Shut up about your death. And hands off.” Helena snapped, this being her sports car, a modified Lambo Murcielago because whoever said she didn’t have a sense of humor wasn’t watching closely.

 

Bet she was regretting adding the extra back seating, though. Jason looked criminally good, red shirt against black suit against black interior and his green eyes were winning.

 

Maybe, he thought, uncharitably, this had something to do with the fact that it was Bruce’s first Valentine’s Day after his failed wedding attempt. Dick would be more sympathetic if he wasn’t suffering the consequences.

 

“Don’t pout,” said Helena, snapping him back to the moment.

 

“What? I’m not.”

 

Jason leaned between the seats to stare at Dick’s face.

 

“He’s really not, that’s just his face,” he smirked.

 

Dick aimed his most vicious glare at him. In response Jason touched his fingertips to Dick’s lips, rubbing against them, parting his lips against his will. Dick tasted gunpowder.

 

“Disgusting, Jason,” he said, and almost believed himself.

 

“Hands _off,_ ” growled Helena.

 

Jason blew her a kiss.

 

Thankfully, at that exact moment their comms flared to life, saving Jason from imminent death.

 

“Is anyone still alive in delta team?” Red Robin’s voice came through.

 

“Not for long, did you find anything RR?” Dick asked, more relieved than he should be at having something else to focus on.

 

 “We may have. And you guys are lucky, B just gave you green light, we need someone inside.”

 

“We'll get in from the back, report later,” Helena said.

 

“Negative. We know they’ve been working on a secret formula,” Tim said stretching the e’s. “Spoiler did the leg work, can you believe they’re keeping this things on paper?”

 

At that point, without warning, Jason reached his ‘Tim’ limit and his ‘sitting still’ limit and began shoving Dick’s seat as if he could remove him by this alone and force of will so he could get out.

 

“No,” Dick said.

 

“But a lot of variables are still unknown,” Tim valiantly continued. “Is it the food? The wine? Something in the air? You can’t sample everything before closing hours and B wants this wrapped up A.S.A.P.”

 

“Did he say why?” Dick asked. “No,” he repeated to Jason.

 

“C'mon, _move_.”

 

“ _Dick,_ ” Helena snapped.

 

He sighed and began to climb out, Jason close behind him, _too close_. His hands clasped Dick’s hips as if he needed the guidance. Dick didn’t acknowledge it.

 

He ducked back inside as Tim said, “We received a transmission from the Green Lantern Corps. They’ve picked up activity that indicates Lantern tech in Gotham. They gave Batman seven hours before they interfere.”

 

“Really,” Dick snorted.

 

“At least it’s not a holiday themed attack. We just recovered from Christmas.”

 

“And this is our only lead?” Helena asked.

 

“Nope, but we’ve got it covered for now. If anything changes I’ll let you know,” he said, attention clearly drifting to something else.

 

“Hmm.” Helena turned to look at Dick with the same expression as when she’d said what seemed so long ago, _we need you to infiltrate this heiress party, take out the guards, change into this tux in front of Tiger and bring me that necklace._

 

All right. The show was on.

 

 

-

Ten minutes later, a cigarette from Jason, a crossbow from Helena and a face palm from Dick and Richard Grayson Wayne (plus one) entered The Rhapsody; no reservation, no shame but a dazzling smile and a tall, gorgeous man at his side.

 

“Good night Sirs, welcome to the The Rhapsody can I have your names?” The hostess was a young woman, probably a student both overworked and underpaid. Dick’s smile widened. “Hi, Richard Grayson; how’re you doing? We would like a table for two.”

 

“Did you make a reservation?” She asked, like second nature.

 

“You know the answer to that is no,” he said, grin firmly in place.

 

“Right, well, Mister Grayson we’re booked up for tonight--”

 

“Aw, that’s such a shame,” Jason cut her off, sneaking an arm around Dick’s waist and drawing him to his chest. Dick worked around some instincts so he didn’t deck him then and there. “We wanted to celebrate that we just got engaged.” Jason smiled at her like he knew something she didn’t, as if Dick didn’t know Jason hated marriage as an institution, as if he didn’t know he’d got it from Roy.

 

Dick nuzzled into his shoulder anyway, then gave in and bit the jut of Jason’s jaw.

 

“You got engaged on Valentine’s Day? That’s so romantic,” a voice with an accent charmingly not from Gotham said from behind them.

 

A couple: she was in her late twenties and he in his forties; her hair a lustrous brown and his, salt and pepper; she was all soft curves and he made a good impression of a brick house. Mafioso and girlfriend.

 

“Thank you,” he said. Jason tensed. _Don’t shoot him, don’t shoot him, don’t shoot him._

 

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!” The hostess. “I believe if you wait a bit, I could arrange something for the happy couple,” she said, grinning. Dick grinned back, he couldn’t begrudge her taking excitement in whatever form it came.

 

Or, _or_ , she was going to sell them out to multiple magazines as soon as she was out of sight.

 

He sighed and guided Jason to the side, reversing their positions so it would be easier to tackle him if necessary. That was the reason.

 

He looked up to see Jason, watching all the couples eating under the dimly light with a sneer on his face.

 

“Look at that Dickie, the practice of romantic love demands a few thousand dollars. You know what Valentine’s Day looks like in The Narrows? No, of course you don’t.”

 

Dick went through various emotions lightning fast and settled, predictably, on anger. Jason forgot that he’d lived the first nine years of his life in a trailer, the only model of romantic love he’d had in his life were his parents.

 

His parent’s love smelled like incense, tasted like popcorn, felt like flying. It would look as out of place in this place as whatever Jason was thinking of.

 

_If_ he even was thinking of anything. Now Dick was angry for a whole different reason. How would Jason love?

 

Would people fall in love if they’ve never seen it before? Would they replicate what they saw in mass media? Would it made sense to them? This was not the time for exploring the inner workings of romance, he saw the hostess searching for them in the crowd.

 

“Jason--”

 

“What, you’re going to tell me that love’s blind to status and wealth? That it transforms poverty into abundance, ugliness into beauty? That people are supposed to feel satiated with love?”

 

Dick didn’t raise to the bait. “No, no.” Up until this moment Dick’d tried to maintain certain distance between them, both physical and emotional, but now for whatever reason he felt himself faltering, slipping, giving into the pull Jason exerted on him. He buried his face into the collar of Jason’s shirt, trying his best to erase the space between them, it would never be enough, they were still separated by skin. Dick felt like he was losing his mind. And on that note, the mission.

 

“Jason, I’m on your side on this one ok? And I need you to be on mine, just stay with me until we have what we need. Work with me.”

 

Jason glanced at the hostess who was waving them over and smirked. “Looks to me like I’m doing all the work.”

 

“Oh, haha, hilarious. Helena said pretend you’re dating, not get fake hitched.”

 

Jason shrugged, “It worked didn’t it?” He looked way too pleased with himself, Dick couldn’t help react to it.

 

“Oh yeah? Up the ante. Call me baby.”

 

“Ha, no.”

 

That’s what he thought. They walked over to the hostess’ stand.

 

“Follow me, please.”

 

Dick smiled and tried to look love-stupid. They walked through tables, wait staff, two exit points and one security guard before the hostess stopped at their table, right next to a very familiar couple.

 

“Hello again!”

 

_Oh, shit._

 

“Oh, hey!” Dick faked cheer as he sat down within hearing range of the woman from before.

 

“This is perfect, you can tell us all about your upcoming wedding,” she said.

 

Outside, Helena was laughing and she didn’t know why.

 

“Oh, are you sure?” He glanced at Jason who was busy snarling at the criminal, so no help there.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Dick glanced at her date and read, _go ahead, you’re the entertainment_ loud and clear.

 

“Tell me, how did you know he was the one?” She asked Jason, who didn’t let Dick enjoy his ‘caught in the headlights look’ before he was leering.

 

“Oh you know, when I look at his-- face,” he finished after Dick kicked him under the table.

 

“And you?” She beamed at Dick.

 

“Uhm.” He looked at Jason. He thought about how it’d been weeks since they’d seed each other, how it had to mean something Jason was here now. Helena was right, he didn’t have to be, Bruce’s orders or not.

 

“When I realized that when I miss him, a part of me is gone.”

 

_Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck_.

 

Jason focused on him with something like violent intent. Dick kept his face purposely blank but felt panic rising inside him because he’d just stepped on a trip wire trap and he was not sure he would emerge unscathed. He was already bracing for Jason to leave, so it was a shock when he broke first.

 

“And, you know,” Jason said, not looking away from him, it was like a physical thing. “When after two weeks of not seeing him I learned what an edge is.”

 

Dick inhaled sharply, he was breathless and could feel they were running toward something, not yet arriving, but a delightful sensation even so.

 

“And he catches me every time,” he said, holding Jason’s gaze.

 

“He reminds me I’m alive.”

 

_Jason._

 

“Guys, you have to order the steak, it’s delicious.”

 

Dick glanced dazedly at the woman. “Right. Thanks.”

 

He heard Jason clear his throat. He felt feverish, though at least he was not the only one, their dinner companion also looked flushed.

 

“So, where are you going for honeymoon?” she asked.

 

“Thailand,” they both said. It was Dick’s turn to pin Jason with his gaze, a batarang couldn’t have done better but Jason just picked up a champagne flute and began inspecting it.

 

“Really? That’s sounds exciting!”

 

“It’s for the elephants,” Jason said to the glass.

 

Dick felt like someone had reached into his chest and was doing juggling with his heart.

 

Jason did that to him, he broke his heart and made it bigger over and over again. Dick hadn’t noticed before, hadn’t noticed anything after the heartbreak, but he was noticing now.

 

“Yeah,” Dick repeated, voice just above a whisper. “It’s for the elephants.”

 

“Ok, enough talk, let’s see the ring!”

 

It took Dick a beat to realize she was talking to him, her hand extended as if to take his. “What ri--oh, I don’t-- we didn’t do rings.”

 

Jason barked a laugh. Asshole.

 

“That’s a shame, I love jewelry,” she said, looking from behind her lashes at her beau.

 

“You deserve them, peach, one for every beauty mark in your body,” he said. Dick didn’t need to know that.

 

“Honey, you’re so sweet, _I could eat your face off_ ,” she said deadpan, making her date rise a brow. This was not what Dick’d signed up for.

 

He noticed Jason was trying to catch his gaze. No, it was a little more Red Hood than Jason. Dick sat straighter, Jason inclined his head at the woman, her hair just a touch wild from the times she’d passed a hand through it, sweat beading at her temple, a flash of hunger passed over her face but it was gone as rapidly as it came. She dipped a finger in the sauce that bathed her meat cut and sucked it into her mouth.

 

“I could lick you all form head to toe,” she said in a singsong. Dick’d seen creepier but he gave her a solid six out of ten.

 

“Oh hey, I didn’t get your name,” he leaned conspiratorially toward her, chair balancing in two legs.

 

“Ana,” she beamed at him.

 

“Hey Ana, could I take a bite of that? Is it really that good?”

 

“Oh, yes.” She looked proudly at her food, cut a piece of steak and stabbed it with the fork. She glanced at him, sheepishly, and he smiled at her; there really was no way of making it less intimate. She leaned toward him, Dick encircled her wrist to guide the food to his mouth and at the last second, used his grip to make her drop it in his lap over his napkin.

 

“Oh fudge, I’m so sorry,” she said.

 

“Please don’t, it was my fault.” He looked at Jason, who nodded back at him. “You know, I think I’m just going to take your word for it and order it myself. Excuse me.” He stood up making a vague gesture toward the restrooms. He left with the napkin.

 

Once he got there he exited through the window, he reached Helena’s car and the doors opened like the metaphorical wings they very much were.

 

“You have it?”

 

“I’m pretty sure.”

 

She put her hand to the dashboard and let it run her biometrics, a compartment opened and a bioscanner unfolded neatly between them. It relayed the readings directly to the batcomputer, were they would be cross referenced with the data Tim had been treating and hopefully give them results soon. Right now would be good.

 

“You ok? You look...” She trailed off, her head cocked to one side.

 

“I’m fine,” he said and she raised an eyebrow at the breathiness of it. A ping. She leaned over to read the feedback.

 

“Jackpot.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“The colloidal system. It’s the sauce, it’s the steak sauce,” she said. There was an incoming call, he supposed, when she raised a hand to her comm.

 

“Switch to the car’s frequency, Red Robin,” she ordered.

 

“Guys,” Tim said, he sounded excited. “This is fascinating, they found a way to ride the emotional spectrum and then infuse organic matter with it.”

 

“The emotional spectrum as in…”

 

“As in with the Lantern Corps? Yeah, specifically, the pink lanterns.”

 

“Oh, the Sapphires are not gonna be happy,” Helena drawled.

 

“Now what?” Dick asked, eager for something but not knowing what.

 

“Someone needs to get that ring --and I’m praying it’s a ring and not a battery-- and somebody else has to get rid of the sauce.”

 

“Do they have a lab? Warehouse storage?” Helena asked because she was the only one with complete brain function right now.

 

“There _is_ a warehouse, bought by a shell company. Like, just the one.” On the background he could hear Steph saying, _you look so offended_.

 

“Dibs on the warehouse,” said Helena. “I have the car and you already have an in at the restaurant, search the kitchens and the back.”

 

“This really is like old days,” he said fondly as he got out of the car.

 

When he got in again, Jason was at their table, wine had finally arrived but the couple they’d been talking to was gone. He raised an eyebrow as he dragged his chair closer to Jason.

 

“Our lady friend was getting a little agitated,” he explained. “I helped her calm down, don’t look at me like that, I was a gentleman.” Dick snorted. “Then security escorted her out. Is she going to be playing Dr. Hannibal Lecter tomorrow?”

 

“Ah, probably.”

 

“Sic the demon brat on her.”

 

Dick let out a surprised laugh and took one of Jason’s hands in his, Jason looked confused at this but didn’t comment. “I take it we were right?”

 

“Yeah, there’s something in the sauce,” he paused for dramatic effect. “And the secret ingredient is love.”

 

“Of course it is. Fuckin’ themed villains.” Jason rolled his eyes.

 

“We’re not done, we need to get rid of it.” Dick pulled Jason up by their joined hands and led the way to the kitchen, he peered through the crystal of the door. Five people, blind spots the size of Metropolis and another door for personnel-only at the back.

 

“Tell me there’s someone coming and I have to kiss you to justify our being in this secluded hallway,” Jason said against his ear.

 

Dick smirked. “We’re not _that_ cliché.”

 

Jason laughed and Dick could feel it against his back. “Hurry up, gorgeous, I want to get out of here.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” he said earnest.

 

So they entered the kitchen, hid behind pots (no sauce) and industrial dishwashers when necessary and through the door for employees only to find a second door, this one closed and a big, red warning sign on it. Jason kicked it open, then stopped.

 

“Well, now it makes sense,” he said, eyes on the pink lantern ring that lay over a steel table bolted to the ground and under bulletproof glass.

 

“Huh. I wonder what Huntress’s going to find.”

 

“Uhm, N?” Jason sounded uneasy. _Thump_. “The fucker’s trying to escape.”

 

Dick looked, bewildered, at the ring, which seconds before had been lying motionless barely emitting any light, and now it was flashing and banging against the glass. _Thump_.

 

“What are you--” he started, Jason had drawn a gun and when the ring finally shattered the glass, he shot it thrice. The ring clattered to the ground, looking strangely resentful.

 

“All right,” Dick said and picked it up. “There goes subtlety.” Jason didn’t look ashamed, he held the door open for Dick and smacked his ass when he passed through.

 

Dick didn’t stop until they were outside and then kept going until they were five rooftops over.    

 

There, he threw a punch at Jason, which he sidestepped. They tussled under the open sky, pressing into the concrete, pressing into the dirt, pressing into each other. Dick finally pinned him to a HVAC unit and crashed his mouth to Jason’s.

  
It was not gentle, Dick was desperate and elated and _hopeful_. He swore this had started as just sex --the best sex of his life-- but between push and pull, blow and counterblow he’d fell in love.

 

“Baby,” Jason groaned against his lips, his fingers pulled at his hair. Dick moaned, he used Jason’s tie to drag him back into the kiss, dug the fingers of his other hand into Jason’s middle.  

 

Dick grinned into the kiss, then began laughing, a real belly laugh. Jason pulled back and glared down at him.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“I can’t believe you stole Penguin's shtick,” Dick said, looking him up and down. “Who's next, Riddler?”

 

“Catwoman, I’d look amazing in that suit,” he said and leaned down to bit his lower lip. Dick allowed it for a moment then leaned back so he could look at Jason. Gotham suited him so well, granite and metal against his back, purples and oranges over the planes of his face.

 

“Take me home, pretty boy,” Jason said.

 

So Dick did.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Lean On // Major Lazer & DJ Snake  
> There are A LOT of references to: Eros the Bittersweet by Anne Carson and to a lesser extent: Crush by Richard Siken  
> If this felt similar to that Brookly 99 episode where Amy and Jake go on an undercover date as colleagues, it's because I got the idea from that.


End file.
